


Paid in Full

by TheAntiHero



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAntiHero/pseuds/TheAntiHero
Summary: They both knew Jessie was inviting Cloud over for more than just pizza. She was more than prepared to make time for a night with her SOLDIER boy.
Relationships: Jessie & Cloud Strife, Jessie/Cloud Strife
Comments: 17
Kudos: 89





	Paid in Full

“So something’s come up, Barret.”

Jessie’s voice caught more ears than just Barret’s. Cloud, seated at the opposite end of the bar, felt his twitch in response to the sound of her voice, eyes sliding toward the scene. He was careful not to make his eavesdropping obvious, so he acted naturally by nursing the rim of his glass of scotch.

The woman trotted up to her bulky leader and energetically plopped onto the barstool at his left, girlishly plucking the smallest fried breakfast potato from his plate. As she chewed on half of it, Barret turned his head toward her.

“What’s the matter, girl?” the man spoke with the serene tone he normally reserved for his precious daughter.

“I’ve been taking extra precautions to make sure I don’t screw this bomb up, so I may need a _little_ more time to get it ready.”

“How much time we talking ‘bout?” Barret still seemed to be in an agreeable mood, but the prospect of a delayed operation dropped it down to a less enthusiastic notch.

“Just one more day,” Jessie swore. “One more day and you’ll have the finest bomb in Midgar.”

 _”Finest?_ Like that damn reactor deserves anything but the mother of all shit.”

“Trust me. One more day and we’ll _definitely_ be giving the reactor some shit. Ever heard of a remote detonator?”

With his face fixed forward, Cloud could only see out of the corner of his eye, but Barret’s grin was nearly unmissable. His enormous hand fell on Jessie’s comparably petite shoulder, and he heartily shook her around.

“One more day it is,” he agreed with pep. “I know better than to rush excellence. ‘Slong as you make me a bomb that’ll blow that motherfucker to kingdom come, I’ll give you all the time you need.”

Jessie nodded confidently.

“I won’t let you down. Need me to go tell Biggs about the change of plan?”

“Don’t you worry about that. Man’s on patrol this morning.” Cloud then felt a pair of eyes, shielded by sunglasses, fall upon him, which gave him permission to finally angle his head toward the scene. Just as he anticipated, Barret, and soon Jessie, stared directly at him. “I’ll send SOLDIER boy to track him down so you can focus on your work.”

The quiet man lifted a brow and swirled the remainder of his scotch.

“Not for free,” he warned.

“Damn cheapskate. Do it and I’ll buy you a plate of Tifa’s hash browns. Best breakfast you’ll ever eat. Sound like a deal?”

Cloud pondered for a moment, during which he took another light sip from his liquor.

“Breakfast and a beer,” he bargained.

“You damn mercs always ask for more than you’re worth,” Barret growled after slamming his fist on the bar. Despite the impression he made, he huffed and popped another home fry into his mouth. “Fine. Breakfast and a beer. Just make sure Biggs knows we ain’t sending him out today.” As Cloud nodded in acknowledgment, the bulky man returned to the girl at his side, softening in the meantime. “Now _you_ go on, Jessie. Make a bomb that’ll tell Shinra we ain’t some small fry.”

“Can do!” Jessie exuberantly hopped onto her feet, checking to make sure Cloud was watching before she waltzed out of the bar. Her expression brightened upon finding two glowing eyes set upon her, and she flashed the most deliberate wink she was able to muster. With her back turned to him, Barret was oblivious to the gesture.

Cloud knew what that wink meant.

Because he knew what it meant, he spent the remainder of the morning beet red. The crimson hue of his cheeks stuck out like a sore thumb, but the sweltering musk of the slums generously gave him an excuse. Behind it, he hid the true reason for his blush. Touring the slums, especially during midday, had him work up a notable sweat–a nasty, sticky sort of sweat that made every movement exhausting and unpleasant.

With hunger gnawing at his stomach, Cloud made haste to find Biggs. Hungry or not, though, he still needed to move at a brisk pace; once Biggs completed his shift, he was to venture ahead of the rest of Avalanche and prepare for their arrival. It was vital that Cloud caught him before then. According to Barret, Biggs could be just about anywhere at this hour, having been assigned to a mobile patrol.

Biggs’ protective sweep of the residential zone landed him before the gate to the old factory, in front of which he menacingly clutched his firearm. Cloud discovered him there after a bout of wandering and inquisition, picking up a queue of odd jobs in the meantime. Having garnered quite the list of work that needed his attention, it was a relief to finally lay eyes upon the short man, who was currently tending to an itch on this bristly leg. When Biggs glanced up and found the blond making his way toward him, his face lit up sightly.

“Mornin’ merc,” he greeted, leaning against the rusting chain-link fence. Lowering his guard in such a manner suggested he felt at ease in Cloud’s presence. Despite the warmth with which the other man received him, Cloud’s greeting in return was naught but a curt and emotionless nod.

“Barret sent me to tell you the mission’s been delayed until tomorrow.”

“Really now?” Biggs asked with a hint of astonishment while holstering his handgun. His hands and arms, now unoccupied, crossed over his chest. “Can’t remember the last time he delayed something _this_ important. Rain or shine, Barret always follows the schedule. What’s the holdup?”

“Jessie asked for more time to make the bomb.”

Biggs’ expression went from pleasantly neutral to deflated, during which he buried his thick, grimy fingers in his dark hair. Eyes closing, a pronounced breath streamed out of his nose.

“Should’ve known it had something to do with Jessie...” he sighed. “That’s the only downside to working with someone like her. She always does a good job, but all the messing around slows her down.”

“Messing around,” Cloud echoed, gaze narrowing. “So you mean…”

“It isn’t already obvious? She’s the slum’s resident trollop.” Quickly, Biggs’ face bolted over to Cloud’s once more, one of his brows dropping. “Oh–don’t take that as me gossiping; everyone knows it. She knows everyone knows it. She doesn’t even bother denying it.”

“Make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t care _what_ the hell she does. She’s her own woman. It just gets damn annoying when she’s constantly fucking around instead of taking care of business.” He sighed, running a thumb over his stubby chin. “Okay, I’ll be fair: sometimes she calms down for months at a time, but then she’ll be at it again for a few months after that. Is that just a woman thing?” Biggs paused to watch Cloud’s stout shoulders briefly bounce, during which the other man shook his head. “Whatever the case, I blame _you_ for firing her back up. She had her head on straight for a while, but ever since you showed up, she’s been drooling like some hound.”

Cloud eyed off to the side.

“You and Wedge must not do a good enough job sating that appetite of hers,” he supposed.

Biggs’ face morphed from neutrality to outright horror. Mortified, he stumbled back as though his breakfast raced up his gullet. The way he shook his head was beyond insistent; it was furious.

 _“Hell_ no! Jessie’s like a sister!”

“Sorry for putting the image in your head then.”

“You _should_ be sorry. Jessie’s a cute girl and all, but there’s _no_ way I’d let her put the moves on me. Thankfully she hasn’t tried… yet. She probably thinks I’m gross.” The man then squinted his eyes and returned them to his neighbor. “But she sure doesn’t think _you’re_ gross. I’d be shocked if she’s having _anyone_ but you over tonight.”

Cloud only responded with a shrug, refusing to return the man’s gaze.

“Guess we’ll never know. I don’t feel like prying.” Collectedly, he strode away from Biggs’ current post, giving the man a wave without turning back to him. “I’ve got work to do.”

As Cloud erected more distance between himself and Biggs, the latter still bid him farewell with a genial wave.

“Doesn’t surprise me to hear you’ve picked up some jobs. Thanks for the heads up, Cloud.”

Despite the fact that his ramblings had meandered into uncomfortable territory, Biggs didn’t seem to think Cloud’s departure was too insistent or abrupt. It was just as Cloud intended.

A glass of beer and a plate of breakfast awaited him in Seventh Heaven. He was pleased to discover that Barret didn’t hyperbolize the taste of Tifa’s cooking; the hash browns were delicious. The bar would probably make a small fortune if it opened its doors in the morning, but the poor woman already single-handedly worked the bar through the night. She most likely dealt with her fair share of drunks, and it would be taxing to deal with their hangovers the next day.

He chatted with Tifa while he ate, but their communion was bound to be cut short, much like how things went with Biggs. Thankfully, Jessie never came up in the conversation Cloud shared with Tifa, so it ended with a natural call to work. After pushing his empty plate and glass to the woman, he graced her with a light smile and departed from the building, diving into the thick musk that enveloped the slums.

The first job summoned him to the weapons dealer next to Stargazer Heights. Passing the apartment building caused him to catch the eye of Marle, who once peacefully flipped through a glossy magazine. After closing it, she rose from her seat and produced a sharp whistle, which caught Cloud’s ever-attentive ears. He glanced over at the building, where he found the woman beckoning him closer. A few steps later, he was at her porch, watching as the woman’s pooch excitedly circled him.

“Been hoping I’d see you swing by. Someone sent a package,” the older woman told him, inviting him closer. As he pensively crossed his arms, he skimmed through a catalog of every face he remembered in Sector Seven. Besides those belonging to Avalanche, he knew of nobody who would already be willing to send him something. Perhaps the package pertained to another job someone wanted him to do?

“Do you know who brought it?” he asked.

“Just Mark. He does odd jobs around here like you. Probably made the delivery for whoever sent it.”

He seemed like a collected man on the surface, but a good mystery was all it took to entice Cloud out of his reserved shell. With a slight amount of pep in his step, he scaled the brief flight of stairs that delivered him to Stargazer Height’s second floor, where he found a small box resting at his doorstep. The man approached it, bent down, and picked it up. Contrary to his expectations, it was heavy, and its loose contents clinked and clanked against each other.

While intrigue begged otherwise, he stalled opening its top flaps until he was inside his room, lightly shutting the door behind him. Without a knife at his immediate disposal, he resorted to slipping a finger under the box’s flap, then forcefully ripping away at the tape that held it down. What he found beneath turned his curiosity into befuddlement.

The box was almost filled to the brim with junk–mostly stripped bolts and rusted nuts. Individually, they were as light as a feather, but a boxful was certainly not of a negligible weight. Oddly, buried in the pool of metal was a used roll of duct tape, slim from overuse. Most importantly, though, was an envelope that sat atop the mess, its front baring his name in voluptuous handwriting. As if it usurped control over his body and mind, the intriguing envelope led his feet to his bedside, where he placed the box. The top of the envelope gave way with ease and surrendered its contents: a single sheet of paper marked by a simple, elegant paragraph:

* * *

_Cloud,_

_Hello, my darling! Do me a solid and deliver this box of “super important supplies” to my house at exactly 20:00 this evening, would you? Be sure to retape the top before you bring it over!_

_With love,_

_Jessie_

* * *

A pretense. That was what the box was. Another prop for this elaborate play she was putting on for anybody who happened to be paying too much attention to their conspiracies. She certainly had all her bases covered: an excuse to delay the bomb run, an excuse to have him come to her house… and it could definitely be assumed she did something about those housemates of hers as well.

After taking the time to carefully retape the box’s flaps, Cloud carried on with the day normally… Well, about as normally as the circumstances allowed. Often, while running all over the slums to fulfill the jobs he’d picked up, he passed by Jessie’s neighborhood. Sometimes he even passed by her house. At each visit, his pace slowed, and his hardened gaze scanned her place of residence. He seemed to at least try to make his actions seem unintentional, but he ultimately proved himself a poor actor.

The pattern continued until a visit was actually warranted. _That_ would be at the birth of twenty hundred–the hour in which the moon could be found peeking beneath the upper plate to see what dwelled in Midgar’s underbelly. The shadow of a man slipped out from Stargazer Height’s second floor, then scampered through Sector Seven’s spirited nightlife. He tightly clutched a box that jingled as he stalked narrow alleys, stopping when he stepped into the golden glow of a specific porch light. It was the only live porch light on the street, and it lived only to see him.

Jessie was there. Broom in hand, she swept the ground at her front door. Her work, unfortunately, did little to tidy the place up; they _were_ in the slums after all. The filth was practically inescapable. The best she could do was rid her property of wrappers and other tiny pieces of trash, all of which she whisked into a pile. Regardless of the effectiveness of her work, it captivated her enough to render her oblivious to Cloud’s arrival. He approached her from behind, and to avoid spooking her, he lightly cleared his throat. Ironically, the girl he tried not to spook ended up spooking _him_ instead; she whipped around the second she heard him, displaying her bright, excited grin.

“Cloud Strife! What an unexpected visit!” she cheered exuberantly. The greeting threw Cloud for a loop, but he recollected his bearings gracefully.

“I um…” Hesitantly, as though he were stumbling through a script in his head, he offered the box. “I have something to deliver.”

“Oh! This must be the ‘super important supplies’ I ordered from the junker.” She accepted the heavy package, which weighed her hands down. Another, albeit more modest, wink followed, but Cloud gave no sort of visual response to the gesture. “Do I owe you anything? Or did the junker already cover the delivery bill?”

Judging by the look on her face, there was a correct answer, but Cloud couldn’t figure out which one it was for the life of him. His eyes, domesticated by uncertainty, slid elsewhere to avoid the pressure of her expectant expression.

“He… already paid me,” he eventually said, shooting in the dark.

“Are you _sure_ about that?” she inquired obtusely. “I seem to remember the junker saying he’d only pay for half of the delivery fee. He said _I_ have to pay the rest when you get here.” The puzzled Cloud remained silent, for he knew the reigns were better off in Jessie’s hands. Having been given full control, the woman chortled coquettishly, leaned her worn broom against the wall of her abode, and disappeared beyond the front door, which had been standing ajar. “You’re so sweet, Cloud. Were you willing to do the other half of the delivery for free? All for little old me?” she sounded from the house’s foyer. “You shouldn’t have to do that. You’re new to the slums, so let me help you get on your feet.”

Cloud listened to her presumably set the package someplace in the foyer, then rummage for… _something._ During his wait, the man crossed his arms over his chest, tenuously tapping his upper bicep as his gaze flickered around his surroundings. Jessie’s house captivated him the most. Like the rest of the area, the building was in poor shape, but something about it made it stand out among its peers. It was neater than its neighbors, and with it being built from bricks, it appeared far sturdier as well. The iron bars that guarded the windows swore to defend its inhabitants from intruders. That part of the house failed to come off as inviting, but the table and lawn chairs in its front gave it a splash of hospitality.

Though Cloud seemed content with continuing to observe the house, Jessie’s head peeked out of the door. Once she had his attention, she slipped back outside, drew especially close, and took one of his gloved palms.

“Looks like my gil is in my room. Would you like to wait inside while I get it?”

Cloud briefly observed her hands, both of which held him with a gentle, but clamant, grip.

“I thought men aren’t allowed in the house.”

“Did Wedge tell you that? He must’ve forgotten to _also_ tell you I make exceptions now and then.” Refusing to wait for an answer, she made the decision in Cloud’s stead. She tugged on his palm until it got him to follow. Both passed through the front door, which Jessie made sure to shut and lock behind them.

The first thing that hit him was the scent of warm, buttery food. It was overwhelming at first, enticing even, and it grew stronger as Jessie led him to the kitchen. Not long after introducing him to the room, she insistently sat him at her round dining table. He put up a small fight, but it ultimately ended with him allowing her to remove the large buster sword strapped to his back as well. As he shifted in the wooden chair, Jessie dragged the blade across the room to lean it against a doorframe.

Judging by the furniture Cloud saw from his angle, the doorway presumably led to her bedroom–or at least _a_ bedroom. The fact that Jessie chose to set his weapon someplace out of his line of sight seemed deliberate.

“You don’t mind if I slip into something a little more comfortable, do you?” asked the woman sweetly, yet to depart from the doorway. Cloud, looking over his shoulder from the table, gave her a neutral, perhaps even emotionless, stare before turning back around.

“You do you.”

“Thanks! I’ll be out in a minute!” With that said, she disappeared into the room beyond the doorway, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

It was silent besides the sound of rustling clothes and a ticking clock. Cloud busied himself with looking for the clock, which he found hanging high up on the wall, almost touching the ceiling. It was probably beautiful at some point, but it’d been damaged; the minute hand still moved, but it was broken. There remained only a few fragments of the glass dome that once guarded the hands. If Cloud wasn’t mistaken, it was so off-count it no longer even told the correct time.

Much of Jessie’s home was like the clock: broken. Almost every piece of furniture she owned bore varieties of blemishes, including the very table he sat at. Some areas of the table had been damaged beyond repair, but the glossy finish suggested it’d been pulled out of a junk heap and restored to the best of the salvager’s ability. Cloud was interested enough to remove a glove to gently run the tip of his index finger over the deepest cut in the wood.

Yes, Jessie’s home was certainly filled with hand-me-downs and refurbished trash, much like the rest of Sector Seven’s slums, but it had a distinctly unique characteristic: coziness. Seventh Heaven was cozy, but Jessie’s home was a different sort of cozy. It was a _homely_ sort of coziness–a place that invited one to curl up and get hard, uninterrupted sleep. Perhaps the atmosphere was the ceiling light’s doing; she’d put a brown, wide-mouthed beer bottle over the otherwise naked lightbulb, which coated the room in a warm hue. The various knick-knacks that dotted the shelves and counters made the air feel far less empty than it would otherwise. The collectibles ranged from small chocobo statues, chipped pieces of china, fake plastic fruits, defunct kitchen timers, volumes of dusty cookbooks, strings of outdoor lights...

Surprisingly, there even seemed to be a sense of uniformity in the decorating, seeing that the same checkered white-and-red fabric covered various pieces of furniture throughout the room. The pillows on the couch. The tablecloth on the coffee table. The cushions on the dining chairs. The curtains on the window...

Cloud’s sharp stare paused on the windows. The curtains were still drawn aside, fastened to the edges of the window by a thin line of fraying twine. Any passerby could easily take a peek inside, where the dining table was front and center. Without a second thought, Cloud rose from his seat and immediately began untying the string. He drew the cloth over the windows shortly afterward. Only after he was sure no other windows remained could he return to his seat at the table. He sat down just as Jessie emerged from her bedroom, clad in a baggy shirt and beige capris. The top was loose, but taut enough to draw attention to the protrusion of her chest. The freedom with which it swayed told any onlooker that she wore nothing underneath.

Jessie strode past the table to retrieve two bulky cans from the sinkside. Cloud wasn’t sure what they contained, but he wouldn’t wonder for long: she slammed them both on the table, labels turned to where he could read them. One label bore an illustration of a raspberry, the other a pair of cherries.

“Cherry pie or raspberry pie?”

“I don’t eat sweets,” Cloud replied on a dime.

“Maybe not normally, but you will _tonight,”_ she returned with playful insistence, but her charm did little to warm the cold expression her guest wore. She silently attempted to entice an answer from him with a sweet, innocent smile. When that didn’t work, she put on an intentionally unattractive copy of his face. Alas, it produced little fruit as well, so she gave up. “Well, if you aren’t gonna decide, I’ll decide _for_ you.” The woman dragged both cans off the table and tossed the raspberry can into the air. She caught it with a confident smile on the way back to the counter. “Raspberry pie it is! Raspberry’s my last name, you know.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you, now? Where’d you see that?” she spoke while digging beneath the sink for a circular pan.

“On your dad’s keycard.”

For once, Jessie went quiet for a moment, seemingly more focused on digging a bag of chilled dough out of the small refrigerator to her left. Distracted as she seemed, Cloud could tell she was nowhere near departed from their conversation. Her lips remained sealed for a few moments more, during which she delicately spread the dough along the bottom of the pan and up its walls.

“Guess you _would’ve_ seen dad.” Her immaculate fingers began smoothing out the contour of dough. “Don’t know why I’m surprised...” For just a moment, she took a break from her work to peek over her shoulder. Right where she’d set him, Cloud remained at the table, leaning against the rickety wooden chair. “How was he?”

Cloud, once staring mindlessly at her knick-knacks, turned to look at the girl. His glowing gaze, unfortunately for her, was unreadable. Almost as soon as their eyes met, his gaze fled.

“Um…” he began awkwardly. Before he continued, a giggle and a smile overtook Jessie’s previously grim countenance.

“Can you believe me? I almost ruined our date with all that business talk. Just for tonight, I’d like to pretend _none_ of those depressing things exist. No dad, no Shinra, no Avalanche, no Midgar, no Lifestream… Just me and my SOLDIER boy.” With a chipper twirl, she immediately returned to work. Her rejuvenated mood inspired her to put all the care in the world into smoothing out the dough, even to an unnecessary extent. Cloud watched her shift in mood with a raised brow–the closest he would ever get to emoting bafflement in disarming environments.

“I think he was fine,” he mentioned after a moment’s silence. “Seemed healthy. I’m sure he’s being well taken care of.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she singsonged while leaping to what appeared to be the pantry. She stuck her head inside and began reciting ingredients. “Sugar, lemon juice, cornstarch, cinnamon…” With it all bundled in her arms, she briefly turned back to him. “You allergic to any of that?”

Knowing he had her attention, he shook his head, giving her permission to zip over to the counter. The sounds of measuring, stirring, and flattening then joined the ticking of the wall clock. Cloud only made a contribution when he shifted in his chair, during which his boots jingled lightly. Skin lightly rubbed against skin when he crossed his arms over his chest, but the motion was barely audible. When the silence between them felt unbearable, chipper humming arose from the host. The melody seemed as though it meandered, yet each note sounded deliberate.

“And there we go!” she suddenly said with an air of finality. Newly-prepared pie in hand, she pried open the oven at her side, into which she gently placed her newest creation. “All that’s left is to let this puppy bake. And while we’re waiting for _that…_ Pizza time!” What threw Cloud for a loop was what she exchanged the pie for: a wide, steaming circle of heavily decorated cheese.

“Thought I smelled something else,” the man commented as his host slid the meal to the center of the table. Perhaps she slid it a bit too hard; the baking sheet glided farther across the table than intended, destined to dive off the edge. Cloud, with the reflexes of a tiger, found his hand instantly reaching out to block the tray, preventing their dinner from meeting its untimely demise.

“You never fail to impress me, SOLDIER boy. I wouldn’t have known it was going to fall off until it was too late.” Playfully, she pinched the top of one of his dark leather gloves, lifted it, then dropped it onto the table. “Good thing you had these on, or else that baking sheet would’ve melted your skin.” Cloud only released a grunt as he gently pushed the pizza to where it was supposed to be: the center of the table. “But now that you won’t be needing those anymore, why don’t you go ahead and take them off? Get comfortable and make yourself at home.” She focused on grabbing her fanciest china instead of waiting for his reaction.

For once, Cloud humored her commands and began pulling at the fingers of his handwear, which he set aside on the uninhabited part of the table. Grease wasn’t something he preferred on his work gloves, and _gracious_ did Jessie’s pizza look greasy. It was unlike any pizza he’d ever seen, for that matter. Unlike most pizzas, Jessie’s had _two_ layers of dough. Sandwiched between the two layers was an array of toppings: marche, mushrooms, bell pepper, black milly, olives, sausage, luche, pepperoni, red shelly... The crowd of toppings made it incredibly stuffed–almost more like a calzone than a pizza. Interestingly, though, the toppings found on the crown of the pizza were far more cordial, seeing that slices of pepperoni were lined up in perfect uniformity. The sight captivated him so thoroughly he failed to notice Jessie had set out a pair of plates, buffet napkins, glasses of water, and forks, a set of which sat in front of him.

“What do you think? That there is mom’s famous Midgar Special.”

“I can see why Wedge likes it so much.” He glanced up at his host, who moved to seat herself across from him at the table. “Never would’ve guessed they had this much variety for sale in a place like this,” he added in reference to the assortment of toppings.

“Eh… Let’s just say I made a special visit to the topside market for tonight,” she replied with a wink. “And food wasn’t all I got while I was out…” Her brows performed a suggestive dance, and she burst into a fit of giggles when it caused Cloud’s face to scrunch slightly. “Don’t you worry, you’ll get to see _that_ later.” Cloud made no comment. Instead, he intently watched as she brought a cutting wheel to her masterpiece. With the steady hand of a professional, she cut the steaming pizza into eight perfect slices. “Which sector do you want?”

Cloud narrowed his eyes.

“Is the pizza supposed to be Midgar?”

“Well, duh! It’s called the _Midgar Special_ for a reason, you goof!” Neglecting to wait for his preference, she abruptly broke off a slice and brought it to his plate. “I’ll give you Sector Seven since it’s so infatuated with you. Everyone’s in love with their new merc.”

“The guy who runs the armory wasn’t so keen on me at first.”

“But he changed his tune real quick, didn’t he?” While nibbling on Sector Six, she leaned forward, studying her neighbor intently as he helped himself to Sector Seven. “Can’t see how anyone could hate you for long. One look at those baby blues and my heart was whisked away.”

Come to find out, Jessie cooked one hell of a pizza. The diverse variety of toppings and spices coalesced into a single burst of flavor with each bite, and Cloud, despite his attempts to restrain himself, was seduced by the thought of many more helpings. Before Jessie even finished her first slice, the man had already devoured Sectors Seven, Eight, and One, and Sector Two was his next target.

“I’ll bet that SOLDIER body of yours needs a lot of fuel to stay in shape,” Jessie noted, amused by his appetite.

“I worked a lot today,” he simply responded. “Didn’t eat much.”

“Don’t tell me. Did Tifa not feed you anything?”

“She gave me breakfast.”

“But no lunch?” Instead of answering, Cloud remained silent, busying himself with Sector Two instead. With a cheeky smile, she propped her chin upon her fist and continued to admire him. “I’ll be having a word with her later.”

The statement yanked Cloud out of his pizza-driven stupor, which led to him sternly staring the woman down.

“I’d prefer it if you-”

“I know, I know.” The girl placed her index finger over her glossy, flushed lips and tittered tauntingly. “What happens here stays here. I don’t kiss and tell… Not much, anyway. _You_ just have to save room for dessert, okay?” She took Cloud’s silence as a sign of acknowledgment, and she happily returned to munching on Sector Six afterward.

The obedient man abstained from eating any pieces more upon finishing Sector Two, even in the face of a desire for Sectors Three, Four, and Five. Jessie only had room for Six and Three, and she leaned herself back once the latter had been put away. She sounded with a satisfied sigh as she stretched her arms above her head, legs spreading out beneath the table. Silently, Cloud eased his chair backward to avoid getting kicked in the shin.

A time or two throughout the meal, Cloud had sipped from his foggy glass cup, but he had been too focused on inhaling his food to actually take a _drink._ Now that he was through eating, he decided to finally take that drink, but to Jessie’s amusement, doing so immediately put a scowl on his face. With furrowed brows, he forced himself to swallow what he took in.

“What do you think of the slum water?” asked the woman from across the table, relishing his reaction.

“It’s slimy,” was the most he got out.

“Imagine how it’d taste _without_ the filters. We’d all be too sick to get anything done, I imagine. Thank goodness you get used to the taste after a while.” As she recollected herself and stood to gather their dishes, she kept a steady gaze on his soured expression. “How about a beer instead?” Cloud did nothing but shake his head and hold up a hand. Shrugging, the girl trekked to the kitchen counter with their plates.

She spent a brief while there, but she didn’t return alone; with her arrived a perfectly round pie. Rectangular strips of dough crosshatched over a rich crimson filling, masked by a thick cloud of steam. Cloud watched flatly as she gingerly carved into the gold pastry with a crooked knife, then placed a chunk on a pair of antique saucers. She slid one across the table, and he intentionally delayed catching it until the last possible second.

While Cloud voraciously outpaced Jessie when it came to eating pizza, the opposite was the case when it came to eating raspberry pie. Jessie didn’t waste a second before shoving her fork into her serving, gently blowing on its piping hot innards, and taking a bite. Cloud, in the meantime, nudged at his with his own fork, obtusely pushing a stray berry around the plate. He continued with the act until her slice disappeared.

“You’re not going to make me do it, are you?” she asked upon observing his untouched dessert. Her fork returned to the napkin at her side as she spoke.

“Do what?” he asked dully.

Contrary to his expectations, Jessie rose from her chair to lean over the table, where she grappled for Cloud’s clean fork. She stabbed the narrow end of the slice, repositioned the chunk to ensure it wouldn’t fall, and brought it to the man’s frowning lips. Her measures painted annoyance on his face, which clashed with the lightheartedness on her own.

“Come on. One bite.” The pie’s gooey insides tapped his mouth again, leaving a light smudge. Still, Cloud refused to yield to her coaxing. His stubbornness, though, only seemed to encourage the determined girl. “One bite, and if you don’t like it, I won’t make you eat the rest.”

The compromise apparently caught his interest, seeing that it drew his eyes back to her.

“You promise?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course I promise. When have I ever said something I don’t mean?”

Wedge’s warning from the previous night came to mind. It demanded to see more weight put toward the question, but Cloud paid it no mind at all. For the sake of getting out of eating dessert, he told himself whatever he needed to hear if it got him to trust her. Refusing to let himself be spoon-fed, he snappily retrieved the fork’s handle and brought its end to his mouth for a bite. Sugariness almost immediately assaulted his tongue, awakening long-dormant taste buds. The sensation felt like electricity racing beneath his skin–tongue, cheeks, and all. His empty hand bolted to his jaw–the site where the lightning struck the hardest. Jessie, with a concerned gaze, crept in for a closer look as Cloud massaged his aching muzzle with his fingertips. His eyelids were shut tight, eyebrows anchored to a point where he looked angered, and a handful of hisses escaped his clenched teeth.

“Did… Did it _hurt_ you?” Sincerity flooded into her typically lighthearted tone. A nod was her only answer for a time.

“It’s… rich… and too tart,” he grumbled. “For me, at least.”

When his eyelids eventually unveiled his vision once more, he found an unfortunate sight: a bitter, disheartened Jessie, who hadn’t risen from the seat across from him. A scowl had overtaken her face. It was once soft with hospitality, but now she looked as though she were on the brink of angered, yet melancholy, tears.

“So that’s the excuse you’re going to use to get out of eating the pie I made for you?” she inquired in an insulted tone, hands rolling into fists atop the table. With each passing word, she shed a layer of disappointment, revealing her frustrated, enraged core.

Her change in mood yanked Cloud away from the dying spasms beneath his skin, and his brows shot back up to denote his worry and surprise. When they commenced a standoff, it seemed as though it took every ounce of his will to keep his eyes from fleeing from hers. Not that Cloud could be blamed; Jessie’s own eyes shot poison-coated daggers at him, and it wasn’t long until the toxin from the blades had a curious effect on its victim. It made him into a mindless drone who lived to serve his queen, receptive to her every whim. That was all it took to get his uncovered hand to twitch a smidgen, enticed to reach for the fork again to placate her, pain be damned. His actions ceased to feel like his own.

But suddenly, in the span of a mere second, the toxin evaporated. Jessie’s death stare melted into a cheery smile, and her tongue, for a few short moments, stuck out at him tauntingly. The change of attitude practically gave him whiplash.

“Psych!” she giggled while throwing herself against her chair. Her expression was not the only to turn a new leaf, though; in place of anxiety, exasperation spread across the man’s face as he rolled his glowing eyes. He too leaned back, arms stiffly crossing over his torso. Knowing there was a placid air between them once more, he turned away from her with an audible huff. “You’re adorable when you look worried, did you know that?”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Oh, you _totally_ know you were. It’s so sweet how you got concerned when you thought I was upset.” She traded her empty plate for his and helped herself to his partially-eaten piece. “But I’m not, so there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. If you’re not going to eat some, Wedge and Biggs definitely will. They deserve something nice anyway; those goofs didn’t _have_ to help us last night.”

Irritation simmering, Cloud watched her finish off his piece from the corner of his eye.

“Doubt Wedge’ll let it go to waste.”

“Wouldn’t be Wedge if he did,” she agreed. It amused Cloud to witness how quickly she scarfed her second slice down. “He and I both don’t have an off button when it comes to dessert. I’ll make sure to give him the smaller half so Biggs can actually get a bite.”

With his guard lowering once more, the man unknotted, placing his hand on the table. Fidgety fingers lightly drummed on its surface.

“Sorry for being a little less enthusiastic about dessert.”

“I’m not offended. You can’t help what you don’t like, right?” With the second chunk of pie gone, Jessie began collecting the second wave of dishes, placing the rest of the pastry on top. While carrying everything to the kitchen, she continued: “You’ll have time to make up for it in a little bit.”

The comment made the man redder than a cherry, but his face remained stiff and stoic. He refused to look her way, even when she faced away from him to tend to the counter. His drumming resumed, but at a far more antsy pace, nails tapping the abused wood with vigor. The performance was born to die young, however; when Jessie abandoned the kitchen to return to her guest, his fingers froze.

“Thank you for dinner,” his polite bone told him to say.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she insisted thickly while approaching him. Upon arrival, she settled her hands on his stiff shoulders. They tarried for a moment, indulging in his firmness while leisurely slipping down his sinewy arms. She stopped at his wrists, over which she draped her fingers. Lifting them into the air, she gave them a delicate, but assertive, tug. “We still got a full night ahead of us, SOLDIER boy.” She made sure he didn’t miss the sensual wink that followed.

Though he temporarily planted his feet at the doorway (against which his trusty buster sword rested), Cloud willingly followed her lead into a dim, but sultrily lit, room that neighbored the kitchen. Unlike the aforementioned kitchen, the room–a bedroom–had far less to offer in terms of spectacle. At its heart sat a full-sized mattress propped up on steel Shinra crates. An aging quilt, cloaked over the mattress’ sides, obstructed the majority of the logo printed on the boxes. A tall, fresh candle burned away upon a nightstand stationed at the bed’s left-hand side. Atop a scratched dresser rested a cracked, but serviceable, mirror. In front of the mirror sat a pair of framed photographs. One was of Jessie’s mother and father prior to the latter’s tragic accident. The other was of herself, Biggs, Wedge, Barret, and Tifa clustered at the foot of a newly-opened Seventh Heaven. In the corner, hiding behind the gaping door to a half-bath, stood a workbench. Many objects on the bench were beyond his recognition, but he certainly recognized the dismantled clocks, pliers, duct tape, multicolored wires, and metal tubes.

It dumbfounded him to see such incriminating objects scattered out in the open for her housemates to happen upon, but Cloud knew better than to think of Jessie as naive or sloppy. Perhaps she was assured that her housemates would not trespass while she was away, or perhaps she had employed a convincing pretense that made her demolition-crafting mundane. Regardless, it wasn’t his place to intrude on the business; she pulled off the creation of one particularly devastating bomb, and she could certainly do it again. Besides, even if he did ask about it, she’d probably ignore the subject just as she ignored his comments about her vegetablized father.

“Here’s my room. Not a whole lot to see, but it’s cozy enough.” She welcomed him inside with unwavering hospitality, urging him to sit on the side of her bed. He complied, feeling the mattress’ springs dip farther beneath his weight than he anticipated. Hands clenching his knees, his gaze followed her to the dresser, where she carefully turned the photographs onto their faces. It was an attempt to ward off any awkwardness that may arise, most likely. She subsequently turned to him. “I’m going to tidy up the kitchen. Why don’t you go ahead and unwind while you’re waiting?”

All Cloud needed to do was nod to get her to waltz out of the room. He waited until she vanished beyond the doorway before he unleashed a pent-up sigh. In doing so, his posture weakened, relegating his eyes to staring down at his dark footwear. He was calm for the most part, yet he felt a slight tremble deep within his muscles. Part of him couldn’t believe himself for humoring the offer Jessie–a near stranger–so aggressively pushed on him. Perhaps that was what got part of him in such a tizzy; he was brave, but he now navigated foreign, dare he say _frightening,_ territory. Eventually, he decided the best way to remedy the discreet shaking in his hands was to put them to work.

So he went to work.

He bent down to cautiously untie the laces that kept his boots snug on his feet, one by one. He slipped his slender heels out. He peeled his socks, nigh glued to his toes by sweat, off his skin. He bundled the socks into a single ball and placed it in the mouth of a boot. He clacked their rubber midsoles together and set them on the other side of the bed.

Next came his iron pauldron, which also joined his shoes on the floor. Then his stainless iron bangle. Then his studded earrings, both of which he dropped into the mouth of a boot for safekeeping. Removing every single accessory, despite the fact that he moved at normal speed, felt abnormally slow. Perhaps it was because he didn’t invest _all_ of his attention into unwinding; his ears were perked, noting every bit of racket that rang beyond the door. He heard running water. The sporadic clinking of dishes. The opening of plastic storage bins. Jessie worked at a brisk pace, so it was only a matter of time until she was finished with her chores. Not to mention they didn’t make much of a mess to begin with. He’d best get himself situated soon, girded for when the woman made a return to the room.

Because he couldn’t bring himself to take them off, Cloud remained in his clothes, toes wriggling through the stained carpet as he continued to sit on the bedside. His shaking had calmed considerably by then, and just in time; Jessie stood at the doorway, waiting for an acknowledgment of her presence. In truth, his instincts, heightened by the mako that rushed through his veins, allowed him to keep tabs on her location at all times. But she didn’t know that, so he lifted his head to signal she wouldn’t alarm him.

She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. Brown eyes scanned him attentively, driving his own stare elsewhere. Neither were entirely sure what was supposed to happen between then and later. Like a hot potato, they tossed the initiative back and forth until Jessie finally caught it and did not let go. She seemed more than happy to take the initiative after recognizing that Cloud had no desire for it. She took it with a subdued spring in her step, gently closing the door in her wake.

Cloud didn’t expect any drastic actions so soon, but Jessie reveled in subverting his expectations. Her knees planted themselves on either side of his hips, and she seated herself upon his lap. Two hands, still slightly damp from washing dishes, cupped his jaws and stroked his cheekbones with their thumbs. They angled his head back so he could witness her curling smile.

“Bring that Materia I gave you last night?”

“...What?” His brows furrowed to denote his befuddlement. “I didn’t think that was…”

“Oh, wow…” She spoke as though she were trapped in a tormentingly wonderful torpor. “Didn’t know you liked to live so dangerously, Mister Strife… Then again, I shouldn’t have expected anything else from a merc.” She brought herself, particularly her face, closer, rubbing her forehead against his. Two arms sensually snaked around his neck, locking over the rear of his shoulders. Her every breath beat against his sensitive skin, and with their distance now so intimate, she lowered those breaths to a whisper. “How good’s your pull out game?”

Cloud stopped, dwelling in the stillness. Having Jessie cling to him made him exceptionally warm on such a chilly night. That alone kept him domesticated, uninterested in pulling away. Jessie seemed to grow impatient, seeing that her lips inched dangerously close to his own. For a moment, he almost felt paralyzed–poisoned by the woman’s incapacitating allure. But just as the very edges of their mouths brushed against each other, he broke free from the spell.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked softly.

“What do you mean ‘why am I doing this’?” she echoed, refusing to retract their distance. Her smile brightened as she released a hefty laugh, sending a gust of warm air to his face. A jolt of electricity made her partner’s skin briefly quake. “I’m giving you the rest of your payment for last night, silly.”

“Be honest with me, Jessie.” With seemingly little interest in responding, Jessie unwound her arms from his neck so her hands could sink down to his own. On the way, of course, she gave the crotch of his pants a single ghostly stroke. Delicate fingers wrapped around the sides of the man’s rugged hands, then guided them beneath the bottom of her loose shirt. Led by the girl, the tips of his fingers crept along her creamy skin at an agonizing pace, especially near the tautness of her belly. The tour stopped at her chest, where she placed the heart of his palms over her uncovered breasts, silently encouraging him to squeeze and play. He obliged her and gently gripped her plush bosom, which he proceeded to push around and tug. Enticing as her body was, nothing distracted him from his quest for answers. He breathed in again. “Jessie. Talk to me.”

“So _now_ SOLDIER boy wants to talk,” she muttered, consciously keeping their mouths close. “Talkative guys are no fun. You don’t want to ruin the mood, do you?”

“I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on.” Jessie’s lecherous fingers left his hands to their own vices. For just a moment, an index finger placed itself on his swelling lips, then slid down his chin. It bumped over his Adam's apple. Traced down the front of his chest. Dipped into his navel. Her hand stilled on the buckle of his belt, and with unexpected dexterity, she gracefully unfastened it. Doing so left her free to part the front of his trousers and plunge inside. The man breathed in sharply when those explorative fingers curled around his growing hardness and gently tugged on it, inviting it outside. His hold on her breasts tightened as he clung to what clarity was left in his fogging head. “Does this have to do with your father?” he was able to force out.

Jessie’s fishing came to fruition; with the help of her guiding fingers, the flared head of his penis popped out of the fissure in his leggings. The woman spied upon his manhood with soft, pleased eyes, but before she moved in to toy with it, she finally took the plunge. What little distance remained between their mouths was no longer. Supple lips collided. Cloud gently closed his eyes as the end of a devilish finger circled atop his sensitive head, occasionally dragging its nail over his slit. Her sultry tongue brushed against the front of his throbbing mouth, requesting admission. With no will to deny it to her, he eased his entrance open wide enough to let her barge inside.

Their tongues clashed and danced briefly. Despite her encouragement to prolong their frolicking, though, Cloud eventually stilled and withdrew his tongue, content with observing her as she explored at her own leisure. In the meantime, he immersed himself in the waves that raced up and down his body, all stemming from a single digit that slid along his extending shaft. Pinching a nipple a tad harder made her squeak.

When Jessie withdrew from his mouth, seeking breath, their separation made a distinct smacking noise–the loudest sound they’d made since she crawled atop his lap. She beamed down at her partner and reunited their foreheads once again, captivated by the growing manhood she tended to.

“It’s got to do with all this _shit,”_ eventually eased out of her. Her tone betrayed the impish air swirling about her person. “Dad. Avalanche. Shinra… And all this blood on my hands… I just need a night to let it all out–get you to pound me until I can’t think anymore… But I couldn’t make this all about me, so I figured I’d make it worth your while. You give. I give. You take. I take… I’m sure you’ve got a few demons of your own that can be sorted out with a good old-fashioned fuck.”

Blue-green eyes wandered to the side heavily.

“I haven’t exactly been the most relaxed person either,” he agreed.

“Why don’t we help one another out, then? I already got you in here, so it looks like it’s too late to back out now…”

“Never said I was thinking about leaving.”

“Good.” With unannounced force, she shifted her weight forward to topple the man onto his back, where she spread out across him. They paused momentarily, waiting for the bedsprings to cease their squeaking. Once still, she steadily dragged the tips of her fingernails over his tight, bulging biceps before grabbing and squeezing them. Her thumb, in the meantime, treated them to a massage.

The man used his stomach to pull himself up when she grappled at the bottom of his dark shirt, once tucked away in his disheveled trousers. By lifting his arms, he allowed Jessie to pull the garment over his head. Afterward, she promptly shoved him down again, but the girl herself remained upright, straddling his waist. Her own top, after getting recklessly thrown aside, disappeared as well, which put her perky chest on unadulterated display. She gave her partner a moment to observe her fit, unblemished torso.

“Like what you see? I sure do.” Her cheeks grew redder by the second as she ran her gaze over her underling’s strapping chest and core. With no reservation, she moved in, clutching his solid breast with fervor. “Damn, you’re as hard as a rock.” She paused. “Here, I mean.” She referenced his pectoral with a few pats. “I think you still got a bit of growing left to do down here, though…” In fluid motions, she ground her hips against his waist. “What’s my SOLDIER boy say to some head?”

The offer stole his words, but not his pensiveness–at least according to his skyward brows. A quickly constricting chest demanded him to breathe heavier breaths for some time, but his wandering eyes, which couldn’t keep themselves from Jessie’s half-naked body, turned each breath into a battle. Jessie had plenty to entertain her as she awaited an answer, particularly his bumpy abdomen.

“Mom always told me to watch out for women like you,” he eventually murmured while spreading his legs. Jessie interpreted his motions as approval of her intentions, which made her beyond pleased. Greedy fingers toured his sculpted physique, gradually sliding downward in tandem with the rest of her body.

“She knew you’d be a heart-stopper,” she agreed while bravely hooking her fingers on the waistband of his trousers. When she began to tug, the man hesitantly lifted his slender, but toned, hips, aiding her mission to slide his pants down the rest of his legs. With a snap of her wrists, they joined her shirt on the floor. Cloud, without a single garment to hide his body, was now defenseless, subject to Jessie’s rapacious leer. “But you don’t need to worry,” she resumed, lowering herself at the foot of his awakening erection. “I’m going to take _good_ care of you.” His breath hitched again the second her touch met his manhood, but this time, she eagerly trailed down, took his dangling testicles, and dropped them into the center of her palm. While pushing its loose skin back and forth with a pair of fingers, a warm, content sigh flowed out of her nostrils. _”You_ are a work of art. Not that I expected anything else.”

Cloud gasped at the sensation of something supple and moist–her tongue–grazing along the raphe of his scrotum. A fleeting kiss followed. Every sensation tempted him to thrash his head against the mattress, but he resisted the urge, especially as the woman lifted her gaze after a while more of licking and fondling. Exchanging stares, Cloud saw how brightly she blushed. Warmth flooded her soft pupils.

“I think I’m in love with these big, droopy balls of yours, SOLDIER boy. I want them slapping against me while you’re pounding me in a little bit, okay?” She trailed her request with a smirk and a wink.

“You’re filthy,” he fired back.

“Aw, are we not a fan of dirty talk?”

“No. Cut it out.”

“Fine, no dirty talk…” She didn’t seem finished, but she quieted herself by wrapping her lips around the reddening head of his cock. The fullness of her cheeks hollowed as she proceeded to suck, tongue swishing up and down the valley of his slit. Throughout the entire treatment, Cloud remained silent, face contorting to house the bellows that fought to break free. His hips buckled on occasion, but Jessie kept him under control with an unrelenting embrace on his waist. Constitution waning, Cloud was ready to surrender to his need to cry out, but Jessie’s mouth suddenly abandoned him, leaving his manhood stout and drooling. At last, she continued: _“You_ just have to do something instead.”

It felt as though nothing could pull the man from his euphoric haze, but he had the strength and will to power out a single word:

“What?”

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear _everything._ I want you to be so loud the neighbors hear us.”

His wetted cock twitched with need, and as though he were a slave to its whims, Cloud heaved a heavy sigh.

“Whatever. Just…” He reached out for her with his calloused hand, nestled his fingers in her hair, and insistently nudged her toward his twitching member. Like her head, his tone lowered. “Please…”

“Look at that: I’ve got you whimpering and begging. You must be more pent up than we thought.” That meant there was no time for dilly-dallying, she must’ve believed, for shortly afterward, she hungrily devoured his manhood again. Now, she went farther than the head–she flawlessly swallowed his entire length, planting a kiss on his bushy hilt. With no reason to restrain himself, the man’s head hit the comforter, and he sounded with a thunderous shout. His calls of pleasure and tightening grip evoked a moan of her own, though hers possessed less fervor.

She held the position for far longer than he thought her lungs would allow, and when it came time to rise, she released his shaft with a distinct, and loud, popping sound. The force left his hefty length wobbling before finally flopping onto his thigh, ready to be grasped and lifted by his partner. Shaft in hand, she rubbed the softness of her cheek against his freshly-coated firmness, littering kisses along its sensitive skin.

“You make the sweetest noises,” left her lips before they reunited with the tip of his head. As she applied gentle suction, her head bobbed up and down, incrementally taking in longer sections of his cock.

Only once had Cloud experienced the wonders of a woman’s lips. It was years ago, and her name was not known to him. He sought her during the days he trained for the worthiness of the SOLDIER title, concealed by the blackness that blanketed the land. As though she knew he intended to be a patron, the woman approached him from the shadows of an alley, enticing him closer with the openness of her dress. After he placed a pouch of gil in her opened hand, she guided him someplace private. An inn… an apartment… a vacant lot–he couldn’t remember where it happened. Or when. What he did remember was the soullessness of the woman–the routine with which she treated their encounter. Her experienced mouth saw him to a speedy climax, but nothing more. Not even a smile.

But this felt nothing like that emotionless night. With Jessie, he felt genuine care–a desire to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible. Love. That swelling, overwhelming emotion proliferated the pleasure to a degree he never imagined. It had him tugging on her hair with one hand, grasping at the bed’s quilt with the other. Jessie’s own hand abandoned its work on his scrotum. It slithered across the quilt as well, meekly softened his grip on it, and intertwined its fingers with his. The passion overwhelmed the man, disarming him in his fight against his release. Trumpeting a whimpering mewl, he allowed his manhood to spew its hot, gloppy climax. Jessie made no effort to pull away. In fact, she deliberately remained as she was, siphoning out every string of come until he had none left to give. Once she was sure he was dry, she released him with yet another crisp pop, and she garnered the brightest of grins as she returned to the bed. Cloud didn’t part his eyelids, even after the girl plopped herself atop his enfeebled body. She leaned in briefly to place a peck on his lips.

Just as she pulled back, though, a palm spread across the base of her head, and an arm snaked around the middle of her torso. In compliance with the slight amount of force she received, she nestled her face in the crook of his stiff neck and allowed herself to relax. In the meantime, his mouth eased closer to her ear, which perked in anticipation for what he would tell it.

“Thanks,” he whispered lightly.

“I can tell you really liked that,” she cooed, nuzzling deeper into his neck. Having her nose pressed against nothing but his flesh filled her with his scent. He smelled of sweat, a hint of ash, excitement, and a glint of fading hesitation.

He spoke nothing in return, but his silence said just as much as a direct response–if not more. With her curvaceous body, delicate in comparison to his, tucked away in his embrace, Cloud rolled onto his side, then onto his knees. Jessie’s back was to the bed now, lustful, but captivated, eyes staring up at his own. Reaching down showed her that his manhood already began to revive, but a distraction came to send her thoughts elsewhere. The man dipped his face to bury it in her chest, across which he dragged his mouth. A familiar grin found itself on the girl as he neared a stiffened nipple.

“Right there, Cloud, right there,” she directed him breathlessly, arms wrapped along his narrow, sinewy shoulders. He obeyed and covered the site with his mouth, making her spine arch. With haste, she reached up, grabbed his wrist, and delivered it to the waistband of her capris. He worked at it as he continued to subject her chest to licks and nibbles, but he was far less dexterous at unclasping his partner’s leggings. Noticing his struggle, she sent help, and the two had her capris gone in seconds.

At her command, the man released her breast and angled his head downward. An interesting sight awaited him: a pair of lace lingerie bottoms that snugly clung to her comely hips. The lace itself had been carefully woven with black material, accentuated by a layer of crimson that rested underneath. As though the sight mesmerized him, he gawked at the display, much to Jessie’s delight.

“I didn’t know if my SOLDIER boy preferred red or black, so I went ahead and got a pair that had both,” she commented lowly.

“They’re coming off, so it’s not like it matters.”

“Well you sure-” A kiss silenced her. Instead of angering her, the interruption evoked another grin. She chortled girlishly as she slid into him again, where a far more extroverted tongue greeted her. With little consideration for the delicate stitches of the garment, rough hands tore her panties down her legs until they hung from her ankles. Jessie didn’t even seem to have the coordination to kick them to the floor, seeing that she was occupied by the visitors that swooped along her sopping nether. Her restraint was pitiful compared to Cloud’s; simple prodding had her bucking wildly and mewling uncontrollably. Cloud thought he could quiet her with kisses, but moans still made their way out between the cracks.

Their foreplay had left her labia in a marshy state–humid, swollen, and exceptionally wet. The flower practically oozed nectar, which brought ease to lubricating her throbbing pearl. _That_ was what sent the girl into a frenzy; the simplest stroke practically made her scream in ecstasy, nails burying themselves in his stiff shoulders and stripping a shallow layer of skin. Having given up the fight to silence her, Cloud helped himself to her neglected breast, careful to continue stroking her pearl at a torturous pace.

Just as the girl began to show signs of mounting pressure, though, she abruptly snatched the wrist that toiled between her legs. Realizing she was putting on the brakes, he halted his sucking as well, but not without pulling her breast up and releasing it, watching it shake until it settled. Their faces met. Blushing faces crept nearer and nearer until their bangs reunited. Heat swirled between them, rising from their furiously red cheeks. A content sigh flowed from the woman as she threw her arms around his nape again, eyes closing with satisfaction. In the meantime, her legs constricted his hips and squeezed mercilessly, gluing their pelvises together.

“You must be ready,” whisked out of her smirk. Swiveling her waist rubbed her swelling, slippery netherlips over his revitalized shaft, coating it in her lubricating juices. The motion forced his body to stiffen as he gasped, every glossy muscle rippling in the candlelight. An anticipatory tongue dragged itself across her chops, parched eyes drinking from the sight until it was dry. “Don’t go easy on me. I want to see how rough that SOLDIER body can get.”

Cloud took her request to heart. His face found a home in her neck as he reached down, grappling for his primed manhood. Jessie’s toned thighs granted him enough room to shift onto his knees and properly position himself, his head poking at her moist, puffy entrance. Her opening convulsed around his tip, yearning to take more. Gladly, he indulged its desires by shoving his pelvis forth, forcefully plowing past her tight entryway. Early into his initial thrust, it felt as though only a grunt was to depart from his throat. Instead, as it escaped, it evolved into a long, groveling moan that harmonized with Jessie’s. They clung to the other as he pushed deeper inside, embraces tightening as his hilt drew closer to her own.

“Attaboy.” The woman smacked and squeezed one of his firm buttocks, making him jolt.

“Stop that,” he growled.

“Mm… _Make_ me.”

As she intended, he took her defiance as a challenge, and he intended to rise to it. Despite giving her velvety insides little time to acclimate to his length and girth, he drew himself out and rushed back inside, testicles swinging and slapping her skin. The mercilessness of his force made her shudder, hand limply abandoning his rump to coil around his neck again. She braced herself for the coming thrusts with excitement.

The man repositioned his knees a final time, then the bedsprings restarted their chorus. His muscular hips aggressively slammed into hers with accelerating force, paying no mind to the prospect of starting slow and steady. It felt like there was no time at all before the sound of their clashing bodies competed with the squeaking bed, but what overpowered both were the lovers’ combined cries. Jessie let out a delighted squeal when his length fully stretched her walls, and she constantly had to renew her leg’s hold on his torso. She could only hang onto him for so long, though; the ferocity with which he drilled her left almost every part of her lower body numb–save for the incomparable pleasure that peaked at every bruising collision.

“Shit do you have stamina,” she wheezed during the umpteenth series of thrusts. Not once had Cloud slowed since he entered her.

“Guess it has its uses outside of fights,” he heaved between whimpers.

“Keep this up and you’ll…” Jessie gasped at a particularly brutal thrust. “You’ll have to push me around in a wheelchair tomorrow.” Even in the midst of barbarously rough sex, she still found the energy to garner a devilish smile and laugh with delight. Perhaps Cloud took her words as yet another request; in a move that baffled his underling, his pace only quickened despite all the energy he’d spent thus far. His every muscle tightened, and the bed practically threatened to buckle beneath the pressure of their furious lovemaking. “And when everyone asks about what happened to me, you’ll have no choice but to tell them you drilled the living daylights out-”

He silenced her yet again with a kiss, except his tongue was worlds more invasive. It irreverently shoved its way past her gate and molested her own tongue, but her teeth put a leash on his boldness. She clamped down lightly on him, and she laughed at his attempts to escape her clutches. She eventually released him upon realizing the hold taxed the speed and virility of his thrusts.

“Please stop talking,” he grumbled upon gaining freedom. Cold, mako-infused eyes bore into her own. She responded with an exasperated whimper:

“Cloud! Oh my god, you’re… Oh my god, you’re too much!”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked darkly, face pressed against her ear.

“Damn right,” she heaved before nudging his own ear closer to her mouth. The very tip of her tongue traced its outer rim, then she caught it with her teeth. “Faster.”

For some, the request may have simply been beyond humoring, but Cloud took it upon himself to deliver–and with a vengeance. He sped up for a while longer, creating a moment that was perhaps the most rapturous he’d ever experienced. His vision felt as though it had begun to fade, littered with flickering white stars. Jessie failed to maintain a hold on any part of his body, now coated in a pronounced blanket of sweat. The sensation of her inner walls wrapped tightly around his length, as blissful as it was, was something he could endure, stubbornly defying the pressure creeping along his member. Now, however, the sensations overwhelmed and incapacitated him. He roared as his release finally broke free, sapping him even of the energy he needed to yank the torrent away from the woman’s depths. With limbs made of gelatin, he collapsed onto Jessie, heaving uncontrollably as rope after rope of semen flowed into her. To his surprise, she didn’t seem to mind–in fact, her legs returned to clench his pelvis, denying any sort of divergence. With pink cheeks, she sighed happily and embraced him again, fingers combing through his oily golden locks.

It felt as though his lungs threatened to cave in, but soft, considerate hands kept him calm. They ran up and down his rigid shoulders, sometimes granting him a light massage. As she treated him with pleasantries, a war raged within his body. Pain endured a losing battle against euphoric pleasure, but it refused to surrender easily. Unpleasant as it was to deal with, the ache in his chest eventually raised the white flag. In its place came clarity, which reminded him of the fact he’d completely emptied himself in a place where such an act was unwelcome.

With a giant pair of eyes, he picked up his head and looked down at the woman beneath him. Sweat (likely his own) covered her as well, and her breasts swayed with each hefty squall that streamed from her nose. Despite his fretful expectation to find a scowl on her face, he found relief and contentment. Awkwardly, his bright gaze darted away from the woman, but he forcefully reigned and returned it.

“Sorry.”

She burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re _sorry?”_ Since he forwarded no resistance, she toppled him onto his side with ease. Their skin, glued together by drying sweat, did not part. Legs entangled. Breast against breast. Nose against nose. Lips against lips. There was definitely force behind the newest kiss she bestowed upon him, yet simultaneously, it was undeniably tender. No longer did lust drench her every action. Romping in bed boiled lust and everything else away–all but the purest of her emotions: love. Gratitude. Amity. The succulent passion in her kiss complimented the palm that cupped his cheek and the thumb that stroked its moist, warm skin. The peace on her face was all he needed to also be at peace. After they parted, she admired him in the silence. Her SOLDIER boy. Cloud watched her, concern washing over him at the sight of tears welling along the edges of her eyelids. She swatted them away almost as soon as they appeared. “There’s no need to be sorry, Cloud. I… You really have no idea how much I needed that.”

It was subtle and easy to miss, but a fleeting smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rested his temple on a fist.

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who uses sex to deal with her problems.”

“Right? Biggs and Wedge tell me that all the time,” she agreed with a crooked smile. “Tifa likes to _talk_ about her problems. _I_ say fuck ‘till you forget. There’s just one thing it _doesn’t_ solve…”

She regained the attention of a curious glance.

“What?”

She snickered while lifting and replacing his fingers on her nether, where she coated his middle finger in the viscous, opaque substance that oozed from her abused womanhood.

“That warm mess you stuffed inside me. Mind doing me a favor?” Knowing he was responsible for the issue, he immediately nodded, albeit with post-coital lethargy. Her index then directed him to the half bath that awaited them across the room, its door invitingly ajar. “There should be some pills in the medicine cabinet. Be a dear and grab one for me, would you?”

Wordless, he obeyed. Or, at least, he _tried_ to obey. Despite his efforts to rise and scoot off the noisy bed, the woman continued to cling to him, firmly smothering his solid breast with a cheek.

“Do you want me to get it or not?”

“Oh, it’s so hard to let go of you…” she sighed while loosening her embrace. It fell upon Cloud to actually break their bodies apart, but it was an effortless venture now that she offered little opposition. The trip to the bathroom was brief, and Jessie’s mischievous leer feasted upon his chiseled body as it strode across the bedroom. Even after he disappeared beyond the doorway to the half bath, the sheet over her pupils maintained its dreamy glaze.

“Which one?” The voice yanked her from her reverie.

“Should be labeled ‘levonorgestrel’,” she answered.

“The tall bottle?”

“That’s the one.”

Rattling followed, and before she knew it, the stoic man’s hand was in front of her, offering a single tiny tablet. She tossed a word of gratitude to him as she pecked it out of his palm and thoughtlessly dropped it down her throat. Cloud found a place to sit on the bedside in the meantime, arms resting on his knees as he blankly stared at the door. It grew so quiet he heard the faint flickering of the dying candlestick, which gradually began to abandon the room to darkness.

“Now what?” he eventually asked with a deflated tone.

“You stay the night, silly.” With newfound exuberance, Jessie rolled off the bed, landed square on her feet, and began fondling the crown of her bed. She peeled back the corner of the blanket and sheet and cast a decorative pillow to the floor. “If you’re in the mood, that is; I won’t hold you prisoner… this time,” she injected shortly afterward.

The bed at Stargazer Heights didn’t top Jessie’s in allure. In fact, if he had to declare a victor between the two, he’d easily raise the wrist of the latter. Hers felt broken into, and it possessed an amiable scent. It was the scent of Jessie herself–a familiar, comforting scent. The apartment’s bed, on the other hand, was just a bed. Nothing more, nothing less. Unlike Jessie’s, it did not have a voice that beckoned him, whispering promises of warmth and companionship. Since it had no voice, he heard no other call.

As he spread his feet across the dingy, carpeted floor, Jessie perked with curiosity, intently watching the man’s every move. Her face dropped slightly upon seeing him start toward the door that emptied into the kitchen, but the thought of him leaving naked kept her disappointment at bay. Oddly, he only poked his head out of the room, and a robust arm reached for the enormous sword that rested against the doorframe on the other side. Door swinging shut behind him, he returned to the bedside, particularly the candled nightstand. The broad side of his buster sword found a new home against the piece. Jessie brightened when he then proceeded to pull at the opposite corner of the bed.

“You’re staying?” she inquired with exuberance. Instead of answering, Cloud climbed onto the mattress, slid his legs beneath the covers, and rested his head upon his hands.

“I’m not in the mood to walk across town right now.”

Nurturing another grin, she trotted over to his side of the bed and leaned over his resting form, giving him a brief scan.

“I imagine you’re exhausted after that roll in the hay. Just _watching_ you have at it made _me_ tired.” He didn’t pull away, even with her fingers combing through the roots of his thick yellow locks. “Hard-working guy like you needs to keep his stamina up. How does a midnight snack sound?”

The offer wiped his stoicism away, and contemplation took its place.

“Is it already midnight?”

“Give or take.”

His eyes momentarily fled from the girl, but they returned shortly afterward.

“Yeah. I’ll have the leftovers from dinner.”

“Coming right up!”

Cloud found it strange how she didn’t bother to redress herself before skipping to the kitchen, from which he heard the opening of a sealed plastic box, the rustling of a cabinet, and the obnoxious blaring of the oven. The sounds held the listening man captive, especially the chipper humming that resumed from the woman. When an unpleasant thought interrupted the moment of solace, he cleared his throat.

“Your housemates aren’t going to walk in on you while you’re like that, are they?” he asked, gaze fixated on the cracked, water-stained ceiling. It was probably snow white once, but years of standing in the musky slums corrupted it into a grungy tan. Her only hope of fixing such an eyesore was painting over it, but her limited money surely went to more important ventures. Still, the sight failed to bother him.

“They’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon. I sent them out of the house for tonight, and I’m _pretty_ sure they know why,” she chirped from the other room.

“They must be used to your escapades,” he deduced, stone-faced. Judging by the jovial laughter that followed, she _wasn’t_ stone-faced.

“Maybe,” was all she seemed to be willing to say on the subject.

Due to her usage of the stove, the only means by which she could heat food, Cloud’s ‘midnight snack’ did not come until nearly a half-hour after Jessie disappeared into the kitchen. He’d partially fallen asleep within the first twenty minutes, hands continuing to cradle the base of his head, but his sharp ears kept a lookout for imminent noises. His inability to journey too far into slumber was a carryover from his SOLDIER days, during which threats demanded him to stay alert around the clock. The habit made it impossible for him to rest unless he had his weapon at his side, ready to be grabbed in the event of an abrupt awakening.

Jessie was no threat, though, and neither was the plate of pizza she dropped onto his exposed stomach. He found Sectors Four and Five awaiting him, and they lured a hand to slip out from beneath his nappy hair. As he reached for one, Jessie spoke up:

“Careful, it’s hot,” she warned while touring the bed to arrive at her side, onto which she climbed. Resting on her hip, the woman silently watched her neighbor indulge in the remainder of their dinner, just as wordless as he was unreadable. But Jessie, being Jessie, could only contain herself until Cloud reached the latter half of the first slice. “So when was the last time a girl let you eat pizza in her bed after you fucked her like a rabbit?” Her verbiage put a tenuous cringe on his face, which elicited a chuckle from the woman. “Come on, don’t give me that look. I’m saying it as it is.”

For a while, likely to punish her for her wantonness, Cloud delayed his answer, choosing instead to occupy himself with the food in his hand. Every chew was soft and slow. Whether it was to buy time or savor the flavor was unclear.

“I guess I’d have to’ve fucked a girl first.”

“No way. You were a virgin?” She knew how to read the silence that followed, which was why she playfully shoved his shoulder with her fist. As though his bones were gelatin, he let the push slosh his limp torso every which way, but the muscles in his abdomen tightened to preserve the plate’s balance. “You sure knew how to blow a girl away for your first time. There you go impressing me again.” With a sly countenance, she eased closer. “Are you _sure_ I’m the first woman you’ve been intimate with?”

He shook his head softly after another bite.

“I hired a prostitute while I was in training several years ago. Only had enough gil for her mouth.”

“And how did her blowjob compare to mine? I might not exactly be a professional, but I like to take pride in my work.”

“Yours was better,” he said without hesitation. “She kind of… rushed it. But you didn’t. Makes me wonder where you got the experience.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” she reminded him with a wink. “Suffice it to say you’re not my first rodeo… but damn would I be the most monogamous girl in the world if I got to have you all to myself. I’d trade a thousand one-night stands for you.”

Cloud went still for a moment, solemnly staring at the ceiling.

“Want me to blow out the light?” he asked out of the blue. Before responding, Jessie adjusted her position against him until she was cozy.

“It’ll run out on its own soon. Besides, if you don’t mind, I’d like to gander at you just a _little_ while longer.”

“You didn’t stare at me long enough earlier?”

“There’s no such thing as ‘staring at you long enough’.” The pads of her fingers graced across his chest, tracing circles along the areola of one of his nipples. His motionlessness suggested he tolerated the exploration. “You’ve got the most immaculate physique. You’re muscular, but not a complete brute like Barret. You’re slender and toned… just like the ballerinos at the Gold Saucer. They were out there on the stage, all professionally trained… and _man_ were they graceful… sort of like you when you’re out there busting heads with that sword.” The corner of her lips curled as she nestled the side of her head in the cavern between his diaphragm and arm. “Maybe _that’s_ why you caught my eye; you reminded me of where I belong. You’re talking to a budding actress, you know; I was the Gold Saucer’s up-and-coming star before I came back to Midgar.”

He already knew that about her, but he didn’t bother bringing up how. Even if Biggs and Wedge hadn’t indulged in whispering about her abandoned acting career the night before, though, Jessie’s revelation wouldn’t have surprised him in the slightest. After all, that performance she put on in response to his refusal to eat dessert was _far_ beyond the capabilities of an amateur. The girl was born to perform.

“Will you go back there when Shinra’s gone?”

“I’ll be honest with you: I’d be surprised if I made it out of this Avalanche business alive. It’s only a matter of time until I accidentally blow myself up.”

“That’s not going to happen. You’re good at what you do.”

“Sector One has something to say to that,” she argued. The air between them, in a matter of seconds, turned stiff and quiet, and it fell upon Jessie to set things straight before the intensity became unbearable. Her solution was to continue talking. “And even if I _don’t_ screw anything up, I’m sure a Shinra goon will get in a lucky shot at some point or another.”

“That won’t happen either.”

“Maybe not if I have my SOLDIER boy protecting me.” Cloud could’ve sworn he heard a purr rumbling in her throat as her face ebbed closer to his jaw, around which she wrapped her lips. Half of it felt as though she kissed it, but another half felt as though she sucked on it. Regardless, it sparked a familiar heat in his core that inched down to his crotch, but a lack of strength saw nothing further come of the sensation. She left a wet spot and a light blemish when she withdrew. “You going to stick around Sector Seven for a while? For us?”

He went in to bite off a piece of the crust, but he halted there, nibbling on it instead. Half-lidded, drowsy eyes remained fixed forth, growing more and more distant.

“Probably,” he muttered around the pizza between his teeth.

The news had Jessie beaming and wordlessly flumping her temple back onto his shoulder. Skinny, but strong, arms pulled his torso even closer for an embrace as she nuzzled into the side of his chest, light eyelids fluttering shut.

“My hero…” she breathed.

For the first time ever, Jessie finally stopped talking and actually _stayed_ that way, mostly to plunge into a deep, comforted sleep. Cloud could tell that much from observing how her inhales, once shallow, lowered as the minutes passed, much like the candlelight. The room had dimmed considerably when he finished the final slice of his snack and nudged the plate onto the nightstand. It appeared he placed the dish beneath the candle just in time; a tear of wax landed on its outer rim, hardening almost immediately.

Careful not to disturb the girl as she slumbered against him, he replaced his hands behind his head once more, gaze continuing to familiarize itself with every water stain on the ceiling. He couldn’t see much of them anymore with the light fading. Like an autocratic parent, it would only permit him to see what was three feet away. Then two. Then one. The last thing Cloud could study was Jessie, who hadn’t budged despite her loosening clutch on his torso. Green-blue eyes combed across a subtle, placid smile. Gently blanketed eyes. A faint, seemingly innocent, flush. She was at peace in the dying brightness. He regretted not analyzing his neighbor sooner when the light at last died, plunging the room into complete darkness. Slender beams from streetlamps crept in between the window’s curtains, but they only allowed for a rough outline of the room’s contents, including the curve of Jessie’s hip.

Jessie.

Cloud had been able to doze off while she was away, monitoring his cooking food, but now that she was beside him–pressed against him–his thoughts could not flee from her undeniable presence. Relentless visions danced across his hazy mind, like haunting images of her horrified expression, caked in ash and soot, as she surveyed the havoc she’d indirectly wrought on Sector One’s upper plate. Images of a girl crumbling at the side of a sterile hospital bed, fists bundling its blankets in sorrow. Images of an inner numbness that augmented in the candlelight.

Had he done the right thing on this night?

…Or had he only fed the beast?

When he looked upon her face, he saw the face of a woman who did not belong where she found herself. Her’s was a body backed into a corner–no different than Tifa. Midgar’s underbelly was full of so many miserable, _miserable_ people… yet only for a few did he yearn to see through it all. He could say with confidence that Jessie had joined that list.

Cloud shifted onto his side–not because he’d grown stiff after holding the same position for so long, but because he wanted to see her face again. He wished to run his gaze over the hills of her cheeks, checking for tears. Alas, the darkness forbade him, so he sent a thumb to accomplish the job his eyes could not. Never had he reached out to her on his own accord. The act felt alien to him, but not unpleasant. The droplets on her cheeks, though… _those_ were the exemplar of an unpleasantry. One enveloped the tip of his thumb, and it almost made him recoil. Stubbornly, he fought instinct and relaxed, enveloping the side of her face with his palm. Her own palm found its place atop his.

“Sex will only put it off for so long,” he told her grimly. He did not expect her to reply as soon as she did.

“Maybe, but not everyone wants to listen to some girl whine about her problems. We’ve all got ‘em. I’m no special case.” She continued to let the occasional tear leak out, unashamed to know Cloud felt every single one of them.

He opened his mouth, prepared to respond, but he stilled to prevent anything reckless from leaping out. Immersed in hesitation, he allowed his jaw to hang agape. He wriggled his toes. Scrunched his nose. Closed his eyes.

“I’ll listen whenever you’re ready,” eventually came out. The speaker seemed unsure of his words, but they had an undeniable effect on the listener. She crawled closer, nuzzling in his solid chest.

“Maybe not now.” Nudging the man’s arms signaled her desire to be embraced.

“But you’ll talk to me eventually, right?”

“As long as you’re still willing to listen by then.”

“I’ll listen,” he assured her firmly.

Warmth reclaimed his lips, and he willingly returned the tenderness with his own. Strong arms gathered the woman’s slender physique and held her against him. She held him as well, departed from his mouth, and rubbed her cheek against his own.

“You really are the whole kit and caboodle,” she mused softly. Within her voice dwelled a deeper, more somber tone, but it masked itself well. “Behind that cold face of yours, there’s someone who’s paying attention. If only, if only… I wish I could make you all mine.” During a quiet interval, Cloud started to concoct a way to react, but she continued before he even started to get something out. “And before you say anything, it’s okay–you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I already know you’ve got eyes for Tifa. Am I wrong?”

Two golden brows furrowed in uncharacteristic worry… and indecisiveness.

“Whether I do or don’t, I don’t think either of us are ready for whatever you had in mind,” he answered after heavy thought. Shortly after he finished, his mouth reopened to insert an addendum: “You _or_ me, I mean.”

He felt her nod into his neck.

“Neither of us need something like that right now. Some no-strings-attached sex will probably be the closest we get.” She pulled back suddenly. A hand remained on his deflated shoulder, and with his body angled toward the window, the fragments of light likely granted her a vague glimpse of his softening expression. “But we’re still comrades, Cloud. _You_ may think you’re just a merc who’s in it for the money, but we see you as one of us. You’re Avalanche.” Cloud’s lack of denial was comforting. “But even if you weren’t Avalanche, I’d still be there for you…” She slithered closer to him again. Their breath beat upon each other’s skin as she quieted her tone to a whisper. “You know why that is?”

With the warmth of her breath creating a light wave of chills down his spine, he felt her ease nearer and nearer. As though she had some kind of supernatural power over him, her mere presence enticed his mouth to ease ajar, prepared to receive the fruit of her passion.

“Why?”

When the anticipation became unbearable, she united with him for the umpteenth time. They’d kissed several times that night, yet each left him feeling like a naive, inexperienced boy. The unadulterated essence of Jessie’s kisses made the entire world seem mysterious, and for that while, there was beauty in the curiosity it evoked in him. The sentimentality made a syrupy warmth pool in his gut.

Just when the kiss felt as though it was to grow deeper, though, Jessie abruptly pulled away to answer:

“Because I l-o-v-e you, SOLDIER boy.” She singsonged so brightly it felt as though her voice alone could light up the entire room. If it had, what would one see should they peer inside? One would see two bodies beneath a blanket, tangled in the other’s tight embrace. Jessie held him the tightest, absentmindedly stroking his relaxed shoulder blades. In the meantime, Cloud’s expression softened, a smirk fighting to make itself visible.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he admitted at last. “And… um… thanks for tonight.”

“And thank _you_ for everything you’ve done so far… and everything you’ll do in the future,” she whispered. “How about we get ourselves a good night’s sleep now, hm? Yours truly has a big day tomorrow.”

“That you do,” Cloud agreed, withdrawing and rolling onto his back again. Though he retracted the embrace he had on her, Jessie continued to hold him as though her life depended on it. Hands settling behind his head once more, he briefly cleared his throat. “Good night.”

“'Night.”

She rubbed small circles on his chest, stilling when sleep at last reclaimed her. Her petting lulled him as well, and the weight of his eyelids was too overwhelming to combat when the pampering drew to a halt… not that he wished to resist the rest that gently beckoned him. Everything about the scene put him at ease: the distant, merry communion of the neighbors outside. The heat of Jessie’s smooth, but slightly oily, skin. The thick, yet seemingly nostalgic, scent of the slum’s musk. The comfortable fullness of his stomach. The warm, feverish exhaustion mating had brought to the center of his bones…

It was the perfect storm for him to follow Jessie into deep, uninterrupted sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to give writing smut a shot, but it was difficult to find a pairing that'd be the most natural in such a setting. After seeing "Final Fantasy VII Remake"'s entertaining reimagining of Jessie Raspberry, The Thristiest Girl in Gaming™, I found the perfect character dynamic for the job. So what did you think? If this one-shot receives enough feedback, I may write a short followup.


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